Are you there God?
by Cinderstorm13
Summary: Isabella Song is a descendant of Dean and Sam, but she doesn't know it yet. She fights monsters, just like them, but something happens that changes her view of life forever. . .
1. Chapter 1

Life in Hell is not very fun.

One moment I am running away from a man with a gun, the next I'm stumbling through a black, metal door with chains sealing it shut.

There was an orange and red fire in the center of my dungeon. It burned with red hot embers and sparks. I looked closer to see what was actually burning, and I saw a dripping, scorched, open-mouthed, human face staring back at flesh was ripped off its bones, and it's jaw was hanging sideways off it's hinge. One of the eyes was missing, and the other was slipping out of the socket. I searched the dungeon I saw new and old splatters of blood on the wall. There were chains hanging from the ceiling and connected to the wall, and ankle chains were stuck to the floor.

I gave a small shriek as more skin dripped into the flames, sizzling as it touched the embers. I gagged, throwing up in my mouth a little.

There was no bed, no food, and no way out. I was stuck in Hell, and for what reason? Because I killed a few demons, slaughtered a group of werewolves, and beheaded a couple vampires? I had never made a deal with a demon, or sold my soul to the Devil. There was no reason that I, Isabella Marie Song, should be in Hell.

I pounded at the door, punching and kicking and screaming until my voice was hoarse and knuckles were raw. I sat down in the corner, sobbing into my hands, trying to remember why I was here.

I hated the quiet. Usually, noises surrounded me, like the grunting of my enemy, or a car honking. It was silent now, when I was thinking, but when I was listening, I could hear voices. Howling and whimpering in pain. I could hear the fire crackling and sparking, and heavy footsteps of the guards.

I hadn't seen the daylight for what seemed like centuries, and the food rations were minuscule.

I couldn't know what day it was, but the fire never stopped flaming. The human inside it never seemed to stop burning, melting. . .

A rattling caught my attention, and the all too familiar click of an unlocked door rang in my ears. The metal door screeched painfully, and I cringed at the sound.

Opening my eyes, I could see a largely built man with tattoos of eagles and wolves on his bare arms. His black shirt was torn on the sleeves, and the bottom of his shirt was cut and ragged. He stepped into the room, the fire casting an eerie glow on his face. He had a gray stubbly beard, or was that a shadow? He had a scar running down his cheek and ending at his chin. His eyes were pitch black, and in the dark room they looked like empty sockets.

I quickly wiped my the tears off my face, hoping he didn't notice.

"Come." His voice was gruff and scratchy, and I followed him out of the dungeon without a fight.

When I got close to him, the demon snapped handcuffs to my wrists, tightening them so they cut into my skin, making me bleed.

"Hey, can you loosen 'em up just a tinge?" I grumbled, trying not to move my wrists. "It's killin' me."

The demon's black eyes had switched back to normal, and I could see sky blue. He glared at me, and I stared back. Finally, he unclasped the cuffs and put them back on, a little looser this time around.

I pursed my lips. "Much better." Cocking my head, I surveyed the cold hallway I was walking through. The floors were made of concrete blocks, and the walls of bricks. The ceiling was just black. There were no lights or torches and the walls were bare.

Smiling evilly to myself on the inside, I looked up innocently at him. "What did you say your name was, Champ?" I asked.

He glanced down at me, and I gave him a dramatized frightened look. "I was just askin'. No need to go scarin' me like that. My name's Isabella, but most just call me Bella."

The demon stared at me like I was crazy, so I went on.

"Look, if you don't tell me your name, I just start callin' you Black-eyes. Blackie for short." I saw him stiffen, and instantly knew my plan was working.

"So, uh, Blackie, you get many visitors around here?" I asked as we passed dungeon after dungeon of screaming people. As I walked by another cage, I saw a young girl, about eighteen, my age, holding onto the metal bars of the door, moaning with wide eyes. Her golden-blonde hair was is tangles and her aqua blue eyes wild. There was a large cut on her forehead, just above her eye. Blood dripped down the side of her face, staining her hair.

I paused as I approached her cage, and she reached out a hand to me. I was about to grab it when Black-eyes gave me a shove. I glared at him as I stumbled and kept moving, looking over my shoulder multiple times.

At last, we came upon a large door, wooden for a change, with torches on either side. On the door was a large plaque with the name Lucifer in fancy writing. I inwardly groaned. Now I was going to meet the King of Hell? _Great_. Not like anything _else_ could go wrong.

I spoke too soon.

Blackie opened the door and forced me through it, with some resistance, I might add. Inside was a sobbing man, laying on the floor with ragged clothing and scars along his arms. There was a demon in front of him, hefting a large sword. The demon brought down the sword, and I looked away as I heard a crunch of bones. Sticky, red blood flew at me, and I wiped it away with my arm.

When I dared to open my eyes again, the body was gone and in his place was a tall man with close-cut blonde hair and hazel-green eyes. He had a scar close to his right eye and he was smiling cruelly, clapping slowly.

"What, was that man just some entertainment?" I snapped at Lucifer, struggling in the tight grip of Blackie.

Lucifer sneered nastily, ignoring my comment. "Welcome home, daughter."


	2. Chapter 2

You see, being the Devil's daughter could be entirely possible.

I never knew my real mother or father.

I just appeared on Earth.

I grew up knowing about demons even though no one told me about them.

Demons have been tracking me since I was ten.

My mouth dropped to the floor, and I stared at the Devil. Lucifer wore a grin, his eyes shadowed and black.

"You may leave, Zaoin," my so-called 'father' said to the demon holding onto me.

Zaoin's grip tightened for a moment, then let go. I sank to the ground, not very steady on my feet. I was weak, too weak to get out of here alone. . .

Lucifer chuckled. "Oh, don't think about leaving," he said as if he could read my mind. His voice was surprisingly smooth, like water flowing down a river, but his voice was husky as well, like the water scraping over pebbles at the bottom of the stream.

I scrambled to my feet, my hair falling in front of my eyes. Lucifer reached out to me, catching hold of my wrists. I winced, flinching back and yanking my hands out of his. My cut wrists still hurt, but the blood was dried.

My 'father' touched my hands. I felt a tingling feeling go from my fingertips, past my palms, and stop at my wrists. I watched in silence as the blood faded away and the cuts closed. Gingerly, I touched the spots where the handcuffs had been, gradually pushing down harder, finding that it didn't hurt anymore.

I locked eyes with Lucifer. He took me by the hands, gently bringing me over to a tall throne with spikes at the top and velvet silk cushions. He snapped his fingers and a cracked mirror rippled as it appeared.

Looking in it, I saw myself, with my shoulder-length red hair and my blue-green eyes. Freckles were dotted across my nose and my eyes bloodshot from staying awake too long.

I didn't look much like Lucifer, and I narrowed my eyes at him through the mirror.

"How can I believe _you_?" I asked him suspiciously. It was the second sentence I had uttered since I got in the room.

He gave a soft chuckle. "Look in the mirror," he proposed.

I didn't take my gaze off him.

"Do it," Lucifer ordered forcefully.

I didn't move.

 _"NOW!"_ He roared so fiercely I took a step back, swiveling my gaze to the mirror. As I searched myself for some sort of change, I didn't notice my eyes until I peered at my face. Once a beautiful turquoise, they were now pitch black, reflecting the light from the hearth.

I leaped backwards, shaking my head, trying to get rid of the black shadows.

Outraged, I turned to Lucifer. "What have you done with me?" I cried.

"You have been this way since you were born." Lucifer's smile made me wince. "You just never noticed, until now." With a dangerous look on his face, he stepped towards me and I fled, pushing my way out of the wooden door and down the cold, dark hallways.

I ran, not looking back. A loud, beeping alarm rang, making me shudder to think of what could happen to me if I got caught. _I won't get caught then._ I thought, determinedly pushing on, even though I was short of breath.

People were yelling at me from the cages, cheering me on. I could hear a pant coming from somewhere behind me, but when I turned to look, nothing was there.

 _Hellhounds!_ I ran faster. Hellhounds are what comes to assassinate you after you sell your soul. They are massive, and only the people they are hunting can see them. So why can't I see them? I never made a deal with a crossroads demon, that's why.

I could hear their snarls echoing down the hall, and I was starting to get lightheaded. If I slowed my pace, I would die. If I ran faster, I would pass out, and _then_ die.

Turning a sharp corner, I heard a yelp. The hellhound had slid on the slippery floor and run into the opposite wall.

Suddenly, a force knocked me backwards. Standing in front of me was Lucifer. He was holding out his hand, a blast of wind blowing on my face. I was breathing heavily as I tried to force my way past him, but he held fast.

"Sick 'em boy!" Lucifer yelled.

I cried out in pain as claws sank into my leg, screaming as teeth ripped through my arm. My legs buckled, and I howled in agony as blood soaked through my shirt from my back, and giant paws slammed on my head.

Everything went black.

And then I woke up.


End file.
